Otherworldly Alliance
by Nathan-Daystorm
Summary: As one, they fell. Together, they will do the felling.


**Otherworldly Alliance**

**Prologue**

**All The King's Horses…**

Disclaimer: As with my other modern League stories, I own nothing.

AN: I just want to note that, while this is a modern League story, it is in no way related to the Dreams of the Damned/Kingpin of the World/any future stories continuity or series. This is a fic of its own, and while I may turn it into a series as well, it has nothing to do with the other modern League stories I have going at the moment.

* * *

Lt. James Montgomery was itching to go home. After all, he was horribly wounded and probably going to die, all thanks to having agreed to go battle some aliens in a rainforest village in Peru that had supposedly been taken over.

James was an established military man, though young, and had a family back home. A beautiful wife – Denise – two kids – Billy and Jenna – a dog – Brisco – and a white picket fence around his middle class house. He had good neighbors, lived in a nice, quiet community in Maine, and in his downtime, he played recreational paintball. He had been a star running back on his college football team, and had turned down an offer from the NFL to serve in the military, continuing the long line of military men in his family. Billy, at only seven years old, was already wearing camouflage and parading around the house with a toy gun, proud to be the son of a military man. When James had left for the Peruvian rainforest, it had been with excitement and an eager pride, despite his belief about the claim that extraterrestrials had taken control of the small village.

Now, with his black hair mostly lost in the brownish red of drying blood, he no longer felt that sense of pride, that excitement. He knew, despite his fading consciousness, that the creatures he had faced in that tiny little village had most definitely been extraterrestrial in origin. Not only that, he also had been struck with the realization that his government had knowingly sent him on a suicide mission, intending to sacrifice the entire platoon to slow down the aliens for a few moments.

James wasn't so proud anymore.

The gunfire was still going on as the surviving members of his platoon did battle with the alien menace that had apparently slaughtered the entire village before taking over. They were big, like the kind that had supposedly blown up the White House a couple years ago, around Independence Day. The populace of the world had been so scared that they didn't come out of their houses for weeks afterwards, and the government was able to get enough rebuilding done to explain it all away as a hoax put on by terrorists.

To say that James was beginning to doubt the truth of that claim was a gross understatement.

He turned his injured head as blood splattered all over it, the stretcher carrying him dropping as the private that had been carrying the left side fell down, his head having exploded after a tentacle had been put through it. James managed a weak roll to the left, avoiding a tentacle that was meant for him by mere inches. "Well," James groaned, grabbing the assault rifle of the dead private, "if I'm goin' down, then I'm goin' down fighting!"

That was when the small, screeching creatures were launched and stuck to his face. That was when his screaming _really_ began, as the tiny creatures began to burrow into the skin of his face….

* * *

One day later, at an undisclosed location, in a dim, circular room, chairs were lined up around the walls. The people that sat in them, while their posture seemed to indicate a stiff-backed professionalism, the Halloween costumes they were did _not_. Finally, one of them spoke, in an electronically altered voice. "I assume we have all heard the news of the American government underestimating the…visitors?"

"Yes," replied another, and even though this voice was altered as well, it was hard to miss the bitterness in the tone. That was, obviously, the American representative.

"The question," another began, "is what are we going to do about it?" No one spoke for a long, drawn out moment, and then finally, one man stood up.

"I suggest we take a cue from the past and form a League of Extraordinary Gentlemen," this man stated.

"I know of a man that could be the liaison between this group and ourselves," the American representative spoke, right on the other man's heels. Obviously, those two had spoken of this option before.

Another costumed individual, this one a clown, a thoughtful hand cradling his chin, spoke up now. "Assuming we were to agree to this plan, who would we recruit into the team? How much would we tell them?"

"The liaison would be a man by the name of Fox Mulder," the American representative explained. "He has been very…zealous when it came to extraterrestrials in the past."

"Some would say overly so," another laughed. "But that is a good choice."

"Yes, yes," the first man grumbled, "but the liaison doesn't matter. The liaison could be a plumber for all we care." The American representative seemed to sit a bit straighter at this, but the first man neglected to say anything. "However, what I – and I'm sure I speak for everyone – would like to know is who we would recruit for the team itself."

"Naturally David Levinson," spoke the man that had proposed the idea. "He is the one that came up with the idea that brought down the Martian shields in their last attempt to take over."

"Agreed," the American representative proclaimed. "We would also like to include Casey Connor."

"The one that supposedly saved his high school from an alien invasion," the first man asked.

"Yes," the American representative nodded. "Given the files you were sent last night, about a certain subject, I am amazed that you are surprised at this. The good Lieutenant is proof enough of Casey's claims."

"Fair enough," the first man assented. "Now, I believe you had an abnormal reaction to the word 'plumber.' Perhaps you would like to explain it."

"I…," the American representative began, sighing before sitting back in his seat, apparently deciding comfort was a bigger concern than professionalism. "There was a small blurb on a television show focused on paranormal activity a few years ago. Two brothers, labeled by the program the 'Super Mario Brothers' fought back an invasion by a humanoid saurian race from another dimension. They were plumbers."

"You intend to place a man," the first man began, "who makes a claim like _that_ on a team intended to _save the world_? What could he _possibly_ contribute?"

"He still has a pair of the jump boots," the American representative sighed wearily. "He also has the material necessary for us to outfit the ship that was being worked on under the Peruvian village with a certain secret weapon."

"…The Phase Shifter," the first man asked.

"Yes."

"…Very well. David Levinson, Casey Connor, and…Luigi Mario. Who else?"

"Hellboy," the man that proposed the idea offered. "We all know what he's capable of, and he most definitely has the strength and endurance to match the Martians in their bio-suits. The BPRD has already offered their support in any way."

"Quite," the first man said, nodding in agreement. "Next?"

"I'm sure you are all aware of the various vigilante operations in New York City," a new voice offered. "And the claims the few witnesses to these operations make as to the vigilantes that have saved them."

"You are speaking of the supposed 'Ninja Turtles', correct," the American representative asked.

"Yes," the new voice replied. "The American representative knows the truth of these claims for himself, having once been saved by them. We think that it may be a wise choice to recruit one of them."

"Alright," the first man stated. "We need one further member."

"I would have suggested Al Simmons, were this a few years ago," someone sighed.

"Actually," the American representative offered, "I think that's a brilliant idea. Though he goes by a different name now."

"Al Simmons is dead," argued the first man.

"Yes, he is," the man that proposed the idea, stated. "He just hasn't done so again." Before anyone could say anything, this man continued, "He was returned to Earth five years later, having agreed to lead the armies of Hell to victory against their Heavenly opponents. Simmons, now going by the name Spawn, changed his mind, and helped kill Jason Wyn and stop what was essentially the end of the world from occurring. We feel that it's only fitting that he be enlisted to do so again."

"Fair enough," the first man stated. "Alright, then line-up is set. David Levinson, Casey Connor, Luigi Mario, Hellboy, one of the Ninja Turtles, and Spawn. Let us hope this force will be enough to save us, because, quite frankly…we have no other options." As the costumed representatives began to file out of the room, the first man pulled the American representative aside.

"Contact Mr. Mulder immediately. I want this League ready to fight as soon as possible." Without waiting for the American representative to say anything else, the first man moved swiftly out of the room.

"Well," the American representative said after the double doors of the circular gymnasium swung shut, pulling off his mask to reveal the face of Fox Mulder, "that was easier than I thought."


End file.
